


Purple Flowers

by AlexSW97



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 12:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5625982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexSW97/pseuds/AlexSW97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minho can't help but notice the large purple flower set high in the ivy. He also can't help but notice how nice it would look in Newt's hair. And to be honest, Newt really doesn't mind, especially if Minho gives him a few pet names along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purple Flowers

Newt exited the peepots, just as the sun was beginning to rise over the walls of the Maze. He sleepily rubbed at his eyes, like a little kid, before stretching his arms high above his head, shirt riding up slightly.

“Lookin’ good, shuck-face.” Newt dropped his arms to his sides, watching as Minho approached him. He had a cocky smirk on his face, arms crossed over his chest. Newt felt the immediate need to wipe that look of his face.

“Wish I could say the same for you, but ya honestly look like klunk.” Newt scoffed, raising his eyebrows in a daring manner, confidence surprisingly high for such an early hour. Minho’s mouth dropped open as he reached Newt, placing his hands on his hips, and jutting on hip out.

“I’m hot,” Minho informed Newt, as if the blonde boy wasn’t  _ well _ aware of his best friend’s attractiveness. Newt crossed his own arms, providing Minho with an exaggerated eye roll. 

“Compared to Gally, maybe, but you’ve got nothin’ on me.” Newt taunted, sticking his jaw out. A large smile grew on Minho’s face, and he let his body relax again.

“You’re right, Shank,”Minho scoffed, moving towards the peepots. “Nothing will ever be as hot as this beauty,” He laughed as he passed by Newt. He swung his hand out, causing it to collide with Newt’s butt. Newt yelped in surprise, and turned to face the boy. Minho laughed louder, disappearing into the peepots with a wave of his hand. 

Newt felt his face heating up, and ran his hands through his shaggy blonde hair. He sighed, heading away from the peepots again. He walked to the map room, getting ready for their day in the Maze.

\-------

After running in the maze for eight months, Newt had given up all hope that there could possibly be a way out through the maze. All the runners, and Alby, knew that they had mapped out every possible pattern the Maze had to offer, and had accepted that they were now running in circles. 

Most days, the runners would run a section, map it out, and head back to the Glade, all on their own. It was a tiring, lonely life, to say the least. By this point, Newt could probably run the Maze with his eyes closed. 

Every so often, maybe once in a fortnight, Minho would grab his arm before they ran off to their respective sections, and drag him along. The pair would spend the day together, racing up and down the halls, climbing the ivy, or just laying on the ground, talking. No one else knew about these days, and Minho would forever deny anyone an opportunity to slack, insisting “Today could be the day the Maze opens it’s door to us, and you want to go take a nap in the deadheads like a dumb shank.” So apparently, only the keeper was allowed to slack off. 

Today was one of those days. Days which reminded Newt how young they all were, and what they were missing out on. Days when Minho’s youthful smile shone bright, and he let his hardened wall slip away. Days that Newt craved, just to be able to spend time with  _ this _ Minho. The young boy who loved adventure and the light purple flowers that grew on the ivy walls. 

Minho was currently high on the wall, twirling a large purple flower between his fingers. They had been racing down the hall, when Minho had stopped, flung his pack to the floor, and started to climb the wall without so much as a word. 

“Catch!” Minho called, letting the flower slip from his fingers. It floated down to the ground slowly, swaying back and forth, light as a feather. Newt held out his hand, palm up, letting the flower delicately fall into it. He smiled up at Minho when it landed, and watched as he descended the ivy.

When his feet hit the stone floor, he immediately turned to Newt, a gleaming smile on his face. He held his hands out, cupped together, taking small steps towards Newt. He looked about five years old, but Newt found it oddly endearing. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Minho whispered as Newt let the flower fall into Minho’s outstretched hands. 

“Yeah,” Newt breathed, staring at Minho’s face, which was lit up in excitement as he took in the flower’s beauty. Minho’s eyes shot up, looking at Newt curiously. Minho picked the flower up by the stem, bringing it up to Newt’s face. His other hand went to Newt’s ear, pushing the long locks back. Newt held his breath, feeling the heat rush to his face, Minho slid the flower behind Newt’s ear, and adjusted his hair around it.

“There, pretty as a princess,” Minho laughed, his usual smirk returning to his face.

“Excuse you, shank, but do these arms look like a princess’s to you?” Newt scoffed, flexing his arms. 

“Compared to mine, yeah.” Minho told him, flexing his own arms. Well, Newt couldn’t really deny that, now could he. “Come on, let’s walk, princess.” Minho sent him a playful wink, before turning to walk down the hall. Newt quickly followed, grabbing Minho’s pack from the ground, and tossing it at him. Minho caught it quickly, barely even turning around.

“Pet names, now? You really need to find yourself a girl, dude.” Newt joked, falling into stride beside Minho. 

“Don’t know about you, babe, but I have zero memory of  _ ever _ seeing a girl.” Minho pointed out, as they turned a corner, another long hall looming in front of them. 

“Good that,” Newt sighed, running his hand through his long hair. “Probably for the best, though. Wouldn’t want any kids running around here.” Newt pointed out.

“We are kids.” Minho reminded him, leading him down a hall to the left. 

“Yeah, I reckon you’re only about sixteen.” Newt guessed, stopping and sitting against one of the walls. “Lunch?”

“Good that, shank.” Minho agreed, sitting beside him. “It’s weird. That we are so young, but the Creators still sent us up here. Makes me wonder where our families are.” Minho pulled a couple of sandwiches out of his pack, tossing one to Newt. He caught it, and quickly unwrapped it. 

“What do you think your family was like?” Newt asked, taking a small bite of the sandwich.

“I like to imagine I had an older brother.”

“I think I had a younger sister.” Newt admitted. “The sound of a little girl squealing with laughter seems familiar. I don’t remember why I know the sound, but I know it well.” Minho nodded, but didn’t say a word as he took a bite of his own sandwich. They sat in silence for a few minutes, lost to their own thoughts.

“What scares ya the most? Besides being stuck in this place forever?” Minho asked after the pair had finished eating. 

“My beautiful face being scarred.” Newt joked, leaning his head against the wall behind him. That of course wasn’t his  _ biggest _ fear, but he couldn’t really decide what was. 

“Mine’s lightning.” Minho admitted quietly, staring up at the sky. Newt surveyed him for a moment, not really sure what to say back. “Besides your face being scarred, obviously.” Minho laughed, after a few long seconds of silence.

“Why lightning?” Newt asked, stretching his legs out in front of him. 

“I think it’s related to a memory I don’t have anymore,” Minho admitted with a shrug. “Whenever it storms here, I just get this feeling of dread, y’know.” 

“I get it,” Newt told him, playing with the flower behind his ear for a moment. “How bad of an idea is it to ask my Keeper if I can take a nap on the job?” Newt asked after another few minutes of silence. There never used to be these long silences between the pair, but lately it had seemed to bring comfort to them. 

“Judging by how late ya were up last night, drinking Gally’s concoction, he’d definitely tell ya it’s a great idea.” Minho patted his lap, giving Newt a knowing smile. Newt didn’t even want to think about how much he had drank last night. He sighed, laying down on his back, his head resting Minho’s lap. 

With Minho’s fingers playing with his hair, it only took him an embarrassing thirty seconds to nod off.

\----------

“Time to get up, Princess.” Newt groaned, rolling onto his side, and pressing his face into Minho’s stomach.

“No.” He muttered, trying to fall asleep again. Minho laughed lightly, playing with Newt’s hair again.

“Get up, Shank.” Minho scoffed, shoving Newt not-so-gently off his lap. Newt groaned again, and watched as Minho stood up, stretching his arms into the air, exposing his stomach. He glanced down at Newt, who was still sleepy enough not to care if he was shamelessly staring. Minho smirked, continuing to stretch. “Like what ya see, dude?”

“Eh,” Newt shrugged, getting to his feet. “You could work on the abs a bit, I think i’m starting to notice those extra sandwiches you’ve been eating.” Newt slapped Minho’s stomach playfully, before putting his pack back on. 

“Hey!” Minho said, offended. He placed his hands on his stomach, looking down worriedly. “You can not.”

“Can’t I?” Newt asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. Minho didn’t notice it though, and continued to stare at his stomach. “Bloody hell,” Newt muttered, walking up to Minho and rucking the front of Minho’s shirt up, to expose all of his abs. “Of course I can’t. Look at these things, slinthead.” Minho smiled up at Newt, a smirk appearing on his face.

“Undressing me after only one flower? What do I get if I give you a full bouquet?” Newt rolled his eyes, but raised his hand to the flower, still secure behind his ear.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out.” Newt said playfully, poking Minho in the stomach, before releasing his shirt. 

“Do I get a kiss from the princess?” Minho asked, bumping their arms together. 

“Why would I kiss you?” Newt rolled his eyes, bumping Minho back. 

“Because I’m  _ bloody _ hot,” Minho laughed, badly imitating Newt’s accent.

“Oh my god, I do not sound like that, shuck-face.” Newt protested, lightly shoving at Minho’s head.

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do no- seriously?” Newt shook his head, slinging his arm around Minho’s shoulders. Minho playfully leaned his head into Newt’s shoulder, before racing off down the hall. 

“Race ya!” He called over his shoulder as he turned a corner. Newt rolled his eyes, breaking into a sprint. Minho through a series of twists and turns, still holding a lead. The pair were an equal match for speed, and it would take something other than just running after Minho to catch him.

Newt spotted a rock up ahead, and veered left slightly, sending the side of his foot into it, while keeping up his speed. The rock skid across the floor,and collided with the side of Minho’s heel, sending him into an unbalanced run. 

Newt quickly grabbed him, shoving him against a wall, his arm pinning Minho there by his shoulders. “Babe, ya know I like it rough.” Minho joked,half-heartedly struggling to get out of his grasp. Newt knew that if he really wanted to, he could easily break free. 

“And you call me the buggin’ princess?” Newt laughed,breathing hard. Rarely did the pair full-outsprint. There was no need to, as they could easily run a section of the Maze in a day, just by a jog. 

“I’m not the one with a flower in my hair.” Minho pointed out, breathing just as hard. Newt was slightly taller than Minho, which gave him a bit of an advantage in this situation. Minho stared up at him through his eyelashes, sending him a curious look. 

“It’s very manly,” Newt assured him. suddenly aware of how close their faces were. He could  _ feel _ Minho’s breath mixing with his. Minho darted his tongue out, sliding it over his lips slowly. Minho’s eyes flickered between Newt’s eyes, and his mouth. Newt’s breath caught in his throat as he felt himself leaning in. 

The gleam of the sunlight on his watch caught his eye, and his heart stopped for an entirely different reason. “Shuck, we have five minutes.” Newt pulled away quickly, grabbing Minho’s arm and sprinting back to the Glade as quickly as he could.

“Shuck, dude I’m sorry,” Minho nearly yelled as they ran as fast as they could. “I shouldn’t have let time get away like this.” Minho’s arm slipped through Newt’s until their hands were clasped together. Minho pulled him harder, until they were only one hall away from the door.

They turned the final corner as the walls started to move, a very angry looking Alby at the end of the hall. Minho pulled Newt harder, as the walls neared closer together. They were only about five feet away from the doors when Minho’s hand left his. He felt a strong hand on his back, pushing him through the walls. It never left his back as the walls pressed closer and closer together.

They fell through onto the grass, the walls slamming closed behind them. The weight of Minho on his back was strangely the nicest thing Newt though he had ever felt.

“What the shuck were you slintheads doing out there?” Alby asked, pulling them both up by the back of their shirts. 

“Making out,” Minho shrugged, and Alby pushed him forward onto the grass again. He pulled Newt all the way to his feet, and then into a hug. 

“You stupid shank. You scared the klunk outta me.” Alby muttered into Newt’s shoulder. Newt hugged him back, just as tightly. “Please tell me you were actually making out.” Alby whispered in Newt’s ear.

“Uh...” Newt started, before shaking his head. “Not bloody likely.” Newt sighed. Alby pulled back, rolling his eyes. 

“C’mon Newtie boy,” Minho grasped at his arm, pulling him away from Alby slightly. “We got some maps to make.” Newt groaned, heartstill beating abnormally fast. Alby sent him a wink once they began to walk away.

\--------

Newt had memorized the section he was supposed to have run today, and he knew what pattern the Maze was on, therefore he had no problem drawing a map that looked the exact same as it normally did. 

The rest of the runners finished their maps shortly after Minho and Newt arrived, having been drawing for sometime already. They all headed out for dinner, giving them each a clap on the back and a “Glad you shanks are alive,” before heading out. 

Soon it was only their pair of them in the room, mindlessly drawing maps for sections they didn’t even study. Minho sighed, dropping his head onto the table. “I  _ never _ want to cut it that closer  _ ever _ again.”

“Good that,” Newt agreed, still slightly panicked from the close call. “We nearly died out there, shank.”

“I know,” Minho shook his head. “Shouldn’t have been so careless about the time. I’m supposed to be the Keeper.”

“It was my fault, shank. I was the one who though sleeping on the job was a great idea.”

“If I remember correctly,” Minho said, tapping his finger against his lips. “You asked how  _ bad _ of an idea it was.  _ I _ was the one who said it was a great idea.”

“Good that,” Newt let his pen fall from his fingers. It rolled across the table, and bumped into Minho’s hand. Minho picked it up, twirling it between his fingers carefully. 

“I’m real glad you didn’t die today, princess.” Minho said in the sappiest tone he could muster.

“Hey, I thought we were past the whole princess thing.” Newt raised his hand to his hair, reaching for the flower. It wasn’t there. “Awe, shuck. I lost it,” He pouted, resting his head on his arms and closing his eyes. 

“It fell off when ya were runnin’,” MInho explained, rolling the pen back towards Newt. It bumped into his arm. Newt opened his eyes, and stared at the pen, like it had personally offended him. Minho stretched his arms out in front of him, his fingertips lightly touching Newt’s shirt sleeve.

“Hey you,” Newt mumbled, too tired to even for a coherent thought anymore. Minho smiled at him, tilting his head to the side. 

“Sleepy?” Minho asked, stifling a yawn as he said it. Newt nodded, stretching his own arm out. Minho pulled his arm back slightly, their hands meeting in the middle. Newt realised just how unbelievable tired he was, when he let himself play with Minho’s fingers. Minho smiled, but didn’t say a words as he watched Newt’s actions. 

Newt eventually felt the last drop of energy drain of of him, and his hand stilled on top of Minho’s. Eventually he felt himself drift off, too tired to do anything about his hand’s position. To be honest, Minho didn’t seem to care in the least. 

\---------

He awoke to the smell of food, his stomach giving a loud rumble before he even realised what was going on. Newt blinked his eyes open, smiling to himself when he saw Minho sound asleep, their hands still together. “Time to get up, Princess,” Newt mocked, taking his hand from Minho’s, and running it through the boy’s dark hair instead. 

Minho grumbled incoherently in response, burying his face deeper into his folded arm. “Min,” Newt coaxed, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Alby brought us dinner.” Minho grumbled again, but sat up, looking at the plates in front of them. “Look Min, Fry made chicken.”

Minho wordlessly grabbed a plate, pulling it in front of himself. Newt did the same, instantly digging into his food. “What a day,” Minho said through a disgustingly huge mouthful of carrots.

“You’re bloody disgusting,” Newt informed him, grimacing at the bits of orange flying from Minho’s face as he spoke.

“You love me,” Minho said, more bits of carrots flying from his mouth.

“Whatever, it’s still disgusting. At least swallow.” Newt couldn’t help but smile a little bit at MInho. The boys quickly swallowed his food, sticking his tongue out to prove it was all gone.

“Tada!” MInho smirked, leaning back in his chair. Newt rolled his eyes, and mirrored the boy’s actions. “See, I’m not disgusting anymore!”

“No, now you’re just acting like a child,” Newt pointed out, taking a much more reasonably sized bite of his own carrots. 

“You love me,” Minho repeated, laughing this time.

“Whatever,” Newt scowled playfully. “You up for the bonfire tonight?”

“Not at all,” Minho groaned, sinking down on his chair, so that his head had almost disappeared from view. He snuck his hand up, grabbing a fork full of chicken. 

“What are ya even doin’?” Newt laughed, watching as the boy sank further down in his chair. He heard a soft thud, and Minho disappeared entirely from view. 

“Getting comfortable.” Newt peaked under the table, laughing when he saw Minho sprawled out on his back, eyes closed, balancing the fork between his lips. “Wha?” He asked past the fork, peeking one eye open to look at Newt. 

“You’re such a slinthead,” Newt shook his head, smiling at Minho. Minho shrugged, letting the fork fall from his lips and clatter to the floor. Newt sunk to the ground, pushing the fork away and laying down beside Minho. “This is what ya call comfortable?”

“Now that you’re here, yeah.” Minho told him. Newt couldn’t help but blush at that. Minho’s fingers were suddenly intertwining with Newt’s, holding their hands together tightly. Newt didn’t know what this was, and he was terrified to ask, incase it stopped. He could feel his heart rate getting increasingly faster, and all he really wanted to do was lean over and kiss the boy. “Wanna just lay here for the rest of our pitiful lives?” 

“Yeah,” Newt whispered, because he did. He would love to spend the rest of his life just laying beside Minho and talking klunk. 

“Good that,” It was quiet again for a long time after that. Newt concentrated on the sounds of Minho’s breathing, the gentle gasp he let out every time he got too close to falling asleep. Newt wouldn’t trust himself to fall asleep at this point. They were too far into this uncharted territory to let it slip away like that. He also didn’t know how to do anything at the point where they stood now. 

“Newt?” Minho’s voice was quiet, but not necessarily sleepy.

“Hmm?” Newt rolled his head to the side, looking at Minho. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted. He looked confused, and a little bit scared. Newt gave his hand a light squeeze. 

“Why are ya holding my hand?” Newt realised he didn’t have a very good answer for that.

“Because ya grabbed my bloody hand.” Newt shrugged, rubbing his thumb over the back of Minho’s and to let him know that it was  _ okay _ . 

“Good that,” Minho snorted, his face relaxing slightly.

“Why are ya holdin’  _ my _ hand?” Newt countered, watching Minho carefully.

“Feels right, I guess.” Minho told him, face flushing slightly. “Got a problem with that?”

“You’re the one who buggin’ asked.” Newt argued, rolling onto his side to get a better look at the boy beside him. Minho opened his eyes, turning his head to the side and meeting Newt’s eyes. He sat up slightly, leaning forward towards Newt. Minho’s eyes flickered hesitantly to Newt’s lips, before he started to lay down again.

Newt’s hand shot forward, grabbing Minho’s shirt, and pulling the boy towards him. Their noses were touching, breaths mingling, but Newt gave Minho every opportunity to move away. “Why are ya holdin’ my hand, Min?” Newt asked again, this time in a low whisper.

Minho’s eyes flickered up to meet his, a curious glint gleaming in them. His eyes dropped back to Newt’s lips, before sliding closed. Newt allowed his eyes to do the same, no matter how much he wanted to stare at Minho, taking in his beauty.

Minho slowly moved forward, concealing their lips in a hesitant kiss. Newt was having none of the shyness, immediately pressing harder, pushing Minho back onto the floor, and climbing on top of him. 

Their lips melded, making Newt’s brain go fuzzy. He slid his tongue along Minho’s bottom lip, pleased when Minho eagerly opened up for him. Their tongues slid against each other, and their teeth clashed. It was messy, and hot, and oh so them. Newt wanted to spend the rest of his life kissing Minho under this table, he didn’t care that he would eventually die from lack of oxygen. 

Minho cared however, pulling back slightly, far too soon for Newt’s liking. “Feels right, I guess.” Minho repeated, hand resting on Newt’s face, the other tangled in his hair.

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” 


End file.
